It’s a certain link.
Life’s a thirst best served with ink,
Written in curves with zinc to form the words I think.
The worst of it?
Your vision was lost in a purse-less ring,
The curtain swings around your body and it hurts to blink.
It's a purge to be reckoned with,
No mercy, just breathlessness.
My purpose surplus, death is an effortless pessimist.
You drawn your last breath and the serpent winked,
And died the same second that you earned your wings in perfect sync.
Worthless hymns from a broken soul,
We learn to swim whilst choking, goals.
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